A typical outing is something like this: Dave and I walk into the grocery store/bank/something with a counter, and he walks right up to the counter, (regardless of the presence of a line, or our place in it) leans one or both elbows on the counter and says something like, 'Hey babes! How's it going?' And then he just starts talking. Doesn't seem to matter what he's talking about. (Which is a good thing since sometimes I'm not sure he even knows what he's talking about. It could be movie quotes: 'Hmm I bet she gives great helmet!', (Spaceballs) or something from the thousands of movies and games that are stuck in his head and come pouring out of his mouth. The woman/women (numbers are no defense, apparently) stares at him a moment in confused admiration, glance at me for some sort of confirmation/reassurance, at which time I make my only contribution to... whatever Evil Scheme this is. I raise one eyebrow, and smile. That's it. After that he's on his own. I'm pretty sure he doesn't need even that, because within about 2 minutes he's done it again. Made them into Dude's Robot Slaves (pat. pend).
|Would you buy a used car from this guy?|
When we moved about 10 miles upriver I thought, sadly, that we'd seen the last of Leah. I know that for my Midwestern friends moving 10 miles does not always mean a change of branches, because that's still the closest bank. But here, moving 10 miles is like moving to another State. A far-away state, that still has strange-speaking Yinzers (Pittsburghers) in it.I've known people here that have retired less than a mile from the house they grew up in, and proud of it. Everything changes, with a move of more than a couple miles, sometimes even blocks. You have to get new shops, restaurants, bars, mechanics, and banks. So I was almost certain we'd seen the last of Leah. Until we walked into our new branch the very next week and there she was! David didn't even blink. Silly Dad... Naturally she would be there. Wasn't that where he was going to be? The power of the Dude-Call is not to be underestimated.
In addition there are now two other women in that branch that are now Dude's Robot Slaves (pat.pend) and every time (infrequently) that I go in without David I'm grilled as to why I was allowed out without supervision. The interrogation continues until they are satisfied that I didn't A: Slip away without Dude-knowledge. B: Didn't somehow lose David in some sort of high-stakes poker game. Or, more importantly, C: Let some other Robot Slave care for him for any length of time.
Every one of David's teachers has seemingly fallen under the same spell. (Hey, it could be magic, I don't know) When we first moved here Dude went to Raccoon Elementary School for a total of two months. After living with his mother for about a year and a half (flashback) he returned to the Dad-den and then went to a different school. Not that year, but at the third year's Special Olympics we were stopped by a cry of 'David! How are you doing?' This strange (to us) woman walked briskly up to us and started babbling like a fan to a Rockstar. It took several moments for me to ascertain that she had been David's teacher's aide at Raccoon and that she had just come over to tell us how much everyone loved him there and still talked about him, and just to check on him to see how he was doing. Dave, of course, ignored everything after acknowledging his Just Due as Robot Slave Overlord, leaving me to converse with this politely concerned woman whom I'd met maybe twice, three and a half years before. I managed not to sound too much like a moron, I thought, but she was giving me concerned looks as she walked away.
|Let's go check on the Robot Slaves, Dad|
I remember hearing a story about William 'Bud' Abbott and his partnership with Lou Costello. From 1935-1957, Bud was Lou's straight man, and he got a lot of flack for being the 'mean guy' to the child-like Costello for all of those 2+ decades. And even though he loved Lou like a brother, he hated being the 'straight' for every one of those 22 years. But when given the opportunity to start later with a new partner and very good reviews, Bud declined, saying, 'No one could ever live up to Lou.'
And that's pretty much the way I think about our little comedy team. I may hate being the bad guy. I may be jealous for being the 'straight man' and wish I could get all the laughs.... but No one could ever live up to Dude. He's my partner.